Decadence
by xsasuhinax
Summary: Pre-sequel to the story Sins. Before Sasuke, before Naruto and before Sakura. She struggled as her young innocent and impressionable mind is turned and twisted into someone she will could and no longer recognize. How Hinata Hyuga became what she is today...a sin.
1. Chapter 1

I never dream.

I never had one, and thought I never would.

I sleep in the darkness of my eyelids in complete serene peace, without a single image appearing in my mind. It has always been this way for me since I can remember, and nothing was particularly weird about it, or so say my parents. My sister has dreams though, lots of them, and doesn't hesitate to share them. However this dream wasn't a dream itself but a bad one, a nightmare.

The nightmare was clear and simple, nothing complex, nor exaggerated; I dreamt that inside the deepest and darkest part of the forest a silhouette stood in the fog. It stood there for god knows how long, giving me a ominous feeling in the pit of my stomach, and I didn't even have to notice the knife to feel my heart thumping painfully.

Nothing else happened after that, but the idea of me, a twelve year old girl who listens to her parents and is well behaved, should not be so easily overlooked. What would most people do in a situation where they feel insecure about something? Why tell someone, usually their parents, teachers, shrinks, or someone trust worthy.

I don't want to tell my parents that I have murder in my mind, not to mention teachers and shrinks who always end up telling the parents. I know because a lot of kids put their trust in people, I've made that mistake before; I had gotten a D on my report card and my parents weren't mad, disappointed yes, but not mad.

Still, that did nothing for my faith in telling others my secrets, luckily I usually never have anything to hide from my parents. Now I do.

My family are cheerful people that live in a miserable city; Seattle Washington, a city where it always rains. Don't get me wrong, Seattle is definitely a beautiful place, especially when looking from the height of the Space Needle, one of the landmarks which tourist love to visit.

My dad lived here when he was little and through great effort he managed to become very successful and well-respected by others. It would be horrible if I ruined his career with the belief that his eldest daughter first dream involved a killer. I can only feel right to assume that the best way to handle this is by forgetting it, though easier said then done.

So as I lay awake in bed, staring at the ceiling with uncertainty of what to do next, a fatherly voice calls out to me from outside my pink bedroom.

"Wake up sweetie, it is time to get ready for church," I didn't budge for a moment,listening to the light drizzle of rain, deciding on whether I should ask if we can skip church today.

Though the last time I asked he said we had to, because it is our obligation. Besides, we weren't like the lady next door, who is always preaching every day, claiming we will all go to hell. Even when I got up and got ready with my family for church she was still at the same corner of her home, with the bible in her hand...under an open umbrella.

She hates me the most for reasons I can not explain, I can just see it in her usual glares that she gives others vs the glares she gives me. My family doesn't notice, or at least my father and little sister don't, mom on the other hand pretends not to notice the crazy woman.

"Bless the Lord who forgives all our sins," the priest says.

"His mercy endures for ever," I and many others in church reply in unison. I stare at the floor the majority of the time when I go to church, it is less obvious that I am not paying much attention. If I look at the ceiling people will think I am having an epiphany.

"Almighty God, to you all hearts are open, all desires known,  
and from you no secrets are hid. Cleanse the thoughts of our  
hearts by the inspiration of your Holy Spirit, that we may  
perfectly love you, and worthily magnify your holy Name;  
through Christ our Lord. Amen."

"Amen," I automatically reply. I listen to the chorus sing, and it sounds like angels came to church too. Still, I awoke when church was over, and I watch my father lift up my sister Hanabi, who is 5 years old, while my mother struggled a bit with opening two umbrellas.

The next thing I knew my mother ruffled my black short straight hair with a bright smile on her face. It is always fun to play with my hair, it's thin and it tickles my shoulders.

My hair is always easy to maintain without any effort. The only thing I do not like is my eyes; I prefer anything over grey, grey is a sad color to me.

"Do you want to get some ice cream," my mother asked my little sister.

"We should eat regular food first. Otherwise they will not grow well," father said sternly.

"I think they will be fine this one time, besides tomorrow is the first day for Hinata as a seventh grader, isn't that right Hinata?"

She had asked my little sister Hanabi if she wanted ice cream but preyed on my new year as a legitimate reason to go. She always loved to wear and buy nice things; I doubt she would like to live in a smaller house. She always has to be the nicest looking one when leaving the house, or when she is around other people. Lots of makeup to hide herself from society.

"That is still no reason that we should skip lunch and go straight to desert."

"Please, daddy," Hanabi quivered her lips and clasped her hands together. She was always so cute when she did that, but at the same time it was a bit irritating for some reason.

After a few moments of friendly bantering, my father finally agreed. After another few minutes of waiting, we sat at the cleanest table we could find, or at least one with the least ice cream smeared on the seats. We sat quietly under the large red table umbrella, eating our treats with the rain still drizzling lightly.

I watched them all eat so distinctively; mom would carefully bit small pieces with the end of her lips, dad would smooth out the design of the ice cream, and my sister does a bit of both. As for me, I didn't take a bite out my delicious chocolate ice cream, nor did I start even when it began melting down the cone. They didn't notice, too busy focusing on their deserts. I did not feel so hungry at the moment, truthfully I felt a bit tired again.

My eyelids gaining weight with each moment.

Silence was between us all until I actually realized that they were talking, muttering something incomprehensible that I could only assume I was too tired to hear. My mind was drifting off into space, numbing myself to a buzzing feeling.

I, without thought, watched them, their eyes pour out tears of overflowing blood; running down their face and body before reaching to my feet on the floor. Their teeth fell from their jaws, and the skin peeled from their face with slow ease, but they just kept talking; muttering more unheard words to the point where I could not bare to stare at them any longer. My heart racing, caused enough fright in me that I let out a piercing scream.

"Honey what wrong?" my father's voice called wordily, as I peeked out from my thin fingers. Normal, except their faces of concern.

"Are you ok," my mother leans in placing a shoulder on my shivering body. My sister looked as lost as I was.


	2. Chapter 2

Today was my first day of school or at least almost the end of the day, and all I had was my last class. Mr. Kakashi who taught literature, and the first moment I walked in, my gut began to twist and turn inside out; not literally of course. I found myself staring at the tall thin and sturdy male now from my desk. I wasn't even looking at him specifically but more in a general sense, but when I did pay attention to his finer details, such as his firm well defined jaw and elegant black hair, complimented with blue eyes.

It would probably be the first and only time I would like the color blue. Mr. Kakashi headed over to the closest set of large window, allowing a cool breeze to enter the classroom as he pulled it open. My chin rested between both palms of my hand which were supported by my desk; listening, sort of, as he spoke. I felt my consciousness slipping away a bit.

"Hello I am Mr. Kakashi. I will be your English teacher. I am sure that by now you know the rules that pretty much apply to all the classes, including mine. So I don't need to tell you about not cheat-," the sound of the door opening to his class interrupted him, and in came another male with a large glass box in his hands.

"Hello, excuse me but I brought in what you ordered," I took a closer look and saw that inside contained lots of spiders. My teacher yelled and almost fell backwards trying to distance himself from the guest.

"Please, get that thing away from me," he threw his hands up in defense, his cool composure slipping away.

"Is this not the biology class?" he looked towards us, as if expecting to explain the reason for the teachers behavior.

"NO! That is next door, please get them out quickly."

"Oh sorry, right away," then Mr. Kakashi slowly regained his posture slowly as the man left.

"I am deeply sorry you had to see that, I suffer from arachnophobia, which means I am terrified of spiders," he said as he leaned on the chalkboard for support.

I had to resist the urge to giggle in front of him, it would be mean; however, it was very hard not to, seeing a good-looking guy like him go crazy over just seeing a spider. Sure, it is reasonable. I would freak out too, but only if it was actually on me. Their tiny legs crawling all over my the sensitive parts of my body, with a tickling sensation that sends shivers down my spine.

Supposedly it doesn't hurt but the feeling of tiny moving prickles on your legs up your stomach to you shoulder and neck, and near you eye would be too much for me to handle. I can just imagine, maybe ten-no twenty spiders crawling up on him. If he freaked out over seeing couple small spiders at a distance, he would have a heart attack at one near him.

"Anyway, for today I am just going to hand out the-," he stopped again, starring straight forward past us. We all turned out heads to look back, but nothing was but the wall and shelves. A louder scream came from the teacher as we whipped our heads to the front of the class. His back against he board, while his eyes followed whatever was invisible and on the floor. He kept looking further down until he was looking straight at his feet.

He flung and shook his body as if trying to free himself from it. His screams had attracted a few students outside the classroom who were now looking through the window. Suddenly realized the window was open as we saw Mr. Kakashi trip backwards and fall through the window. His screams became ours.

It took a lot for my parents to get me to calm down, and is understandable given what I had witnessed. I can still remember the sound of the thud from his body, his blood splattered on the paved concrete, the look of fear still etched across his no longer beautiful face.

I could barely hear my parents discussing with each other, no doubt about the incident, as I sat in the living room; rocking back and forth. Listening to rain they say soothes people, but unfortunately for me there was none today instead of rain I get to hear birds. The pitches were too high and only reminded me of the scream Mr. Kakashi bellowed from his lungs. I wondered how my parents feel about it, but as soon as I started thinking about my parents an obscure feeling came over me, and I can't seem to pinpoint the actual feeling.

I needed to distract myself with something, but I didn't really want to get up from my spot on the couch, so instead I grabbed the nearest pen and paper, which already a bit of writing on it, and began to draw small stuff. It did relax me a bit, and I soon began to repeatedly copy the writing down, getting it as neat and fancy as the original writing, my father's.

The image did not fade but only ease the stress on me after a while of writing. My hand was cramping and had nothing else to do. I really wanted to go around the block, but was nervous that my parents would say no. I could easily just sneak out the door, and be back in five or ten minutes, since their discussion usually lasted a while. However, I had never actually done something without my parents somewhat aware. Would they hate me? Would they stop trusting me? The sky was decent and I don't get to go out in good weather as often as I would like. Besides, it is only around the block. Not to mention I had not to talk to strangers, get in strangers car or scream and run if someone tries to grab me. I won't cross a busy street or go into any unfamiliar neighborhoods. So what they don't know won't hurt them, right? I am a good kid, I am sure they will understand.

So I ended up going outside, and walking on the decently maintained sidewalks. The more I talked to myself about being a good kid, guilt I felt about not asking my parents. The lady next door was not out today surprisingly, so does this mean that she has a life outside the cross? No- I think I just saw her inside, passing her own window; luckily she didn't see me, otherwise she might have lectured me or taken me back home. I kept going down sidewalk, looking at all the different design expensive homes.

The house were blended very well together, most of it was simply different shades of beige. No one that was outside took notice that I was by myself, they were usually doing whatever they do as rich people. I saw a few read out in front, and a couple having some kind of group chat at their table, they even had a butler. My dad doesn't like butlers, he feels as if he is taking advantage of people like them, same with bell boys, maids, and door holders in fancy hotels. He does like that they were able to have jobs. He is very sympathetic towards people who are either jobless or homeless.

I stopped at a busy road, but didn't cross. I wasn't going too, I promised I would not. However, I didn't promise not to pet puppy. Next to me I could hear it's adorable yet sad whimpering, and kneeling down I tried to talk to the poor thing. He looked a bit like a border-collie, but with slick brown fur and a missing tail; how terrible. The poor thing looked like it was starving.

"You poor thing," It was too bad I didn't have anything on me for him to eat. I knew not to pet stray dogs because some bite and never had any shots, but I couldn't help myself, and as I drew my hand near his head his eyes suddenly shot opened, and he began to growl. I pulled my hand back swiftly just in case he tried to bite it; the stray stood up and began to back away, stilling growling at me.

"It's ok, I am not going to hurt you," I didn't move from my spot, nor made an effort to get closer to him. He just growled louder backing up more, straight into the street. "No stop," I yelled, but all his response was a loud angry bark and turned to run. He didn't run longweeke, a second later he was dead.

Two deaths in a row on the same day. How can I forget! My parents were a bit disappointed in me for leaving without permission, which did not make me feel any better. They did not press on it too much. Hanabi is lucky, she didn't get to see either horrors, which in a way makes me a bit jealous. If I could erase all those memories I wouldn't hesitate in doing it. I don't know how not sure how in the world I was able to make it through the rest of the week without going crazy.

Not to mention I had lots of homework to do for all my classes, including my English class which was taken over by a new teacher; not as handsome as Mr. Kakashi. It is not all bad because there is a carnival in town this weekend and my mom and dad are taking me and Hanabi too. However, for some odd reason I can't seem to shake off this guilty feeling, but how was I supposed to know they were going to die in front of my eyes.


End file.
